Anticipation and Relief
by Josephine Stone
Summary: Draco contemplates the peacefulness around him while his life is in the middle of a war, during a game of Spin the Bottle. Written for hp-silencio; therefore it has no dialogue.


Written for: hp-silencio (therefore it has no dialogue)  
>Prompt: Spin-the-bottle. On the eve of war, everything feels a little unfamiliar, so why does the promise of this new experience feel so different from the others?<br>Beta: digthewriter  
>Pairing(s)Character(s): Harry/Draco, Neville/Pansy  
>Summary: Draco contemplates the peacefulness around him while his life is in the middle of a war, during a game of Spin the Bottle.<br>Author Notes: I'd like to thank my beta who is always there for me. The prompt for this hinted at the idea of the game itself being the new experience Draco was excited about, but I twisted that a bit.

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><p>The empty bottle spun in front of them.<p>

It was rare that Slytherins mingled with those outside their house, and when they did, Gryffindors were never in their company. At least, that was true for Draco's year. But Harry Potter was in Draco's year and he seemed to change the rules on everything by merely showing up. So perhaps there never really had been a huge divide between the houses outside of his own narrow view.

Because when the seventh years from Hufflepuff and Slytherin started a game of Spin the Bottle, no one found Hufflepuffs sitting in a circle in the Slytherin common room waiting to see who kissed who as odd sight.

When a couple ran off to invite one of their Ravenclaw friends, it didn't send shock waves of magic through the castle, and when Cormac McLaggen showed up, the only change was that a few of the younger Slytherin girls decided it wasn't such a silly game after all and joined in. Pansy being one of those girls and failing miserably at hiding it dragged him along with her.

There was a war on outside the walls, but so few of the people in the room with Draco had any involvement with it.

Draco sat and watched couple after couple kiss and marveled how anyone could be so innocent as to blush about kissing while he sat two meters away from them with the Dark Mark burned into his arm.

House colours mixed as the circle grew and then shrank as people joined while others grew bored. When McLaggen left, so did half the circle. Pansy stayed, therefore so did Draco. He didn't even attempt to argue. He hadn't put up much of a fight toward anything in a long while.

No matter who came or left, tension was absent, until Harry Potter walked into the room.

The bottle spun, but everyone's eyes were on him. The only friend of his with him was Longbottom. It appeared that McLaggen was his entry card for he had returned. As they sat and more people crowded around, the tension slowly faded for everyone except Draco. How could he relax with Potter sat across the circle from him? No matter where Draco looked, Potter was there in his peripheral vision.

It seemed as though it had been that way all year.

When he gave up and let himself look over at him, Draco noticed Potter had the same problem. He exaggerated looking from one side of the room to the other attempting to create a blind spot right in front of him. He'd stare too hard at the bottle trying to ignore Draco on the other side of it.

Draco dodged Potter all year long. Potter openly stared Draco through every meal, but there he felt the need to be discreet?

With all the comings and goings Draco lucked out and the bottle had yet to stop on him, though it came close and stopped on Pansy more than once already. So when it slowed after Longbottom's spin, Draco was sure his luck was about to end. Potter's presence had that effect on him as well. He sucked all of Draco's luck into himself and hoarded it.

It landed on Pansy, again, and Draco sagged in relief.

He smirked as Longbottom wiped his palms across his trouser legs before he forced himself to move across the circle toward Pansy. Of course, he'd be nervous about a simple kiss. It only had to be peck, but if some of the couples decided to take it farther, no one was going to stop them. Longbottom was clumsy prior to his latest growth spurt, which he was still adjusting to, and he kicked the bottle on accident as he tried to cross the circle.

Potter caught it before it made it too far away and everyone laughed as Longbottom turned red.

Draco turned to share a smirk with Pansy, but she sat cross legged and stiff next to him staring directly at Longbottom. Anyone else would have thought she was struck with fear, and gauging the hesitant look on Longbottom's face that was his interpretation of her wide-eyes and slightly open mouth.

But Draco knew her better.

When Pansy was afraid, she threw fits. She kicked, screamed, and demanded things. Only a fool would attempt to touch her during one. This was something entirely different. This was ianticipation/i. Longbottom was about to break her heart, because the way his arms were shaking there was no way he'd try for tongue. His arms weren't weak. He spent an awful lot of time in greenhouses with Madam Sprout, and over the past couple years—along with his naturally getting taller—he had more muscle than some of the Slytherin Quidditch team. From igardening/i.

Longbottom was careful not to touch her as he leaned in. There was apology in his expression and movements, which was familiar and common for Longbottom, but it was the first time Draco was moved to feel something other than disdain for it.

Even if Pansy really hated him and was disgusted by the idea of kissing him, why should Longbottom feel sorry for iher/i snobbishness. He was hardly the least attractive person in the circle. Being clumsy is laughable, but doesn't make one unkissable. When McLaggen had to kiss the Ravenclaw that was more acne than face, she relished it and he—well, he wasn't frozen staring wide-eyed at her—but he didn't make a big production out of it, either.

It was just a kiss.

Longbottom didn't keep his lips pressed tightly together, but Draco had been right and he didn't attempt tongue. Hundreds of people had kissed around him that day—even Pansy where she sat then—but Draco was far too close to this kiss for his own comfort.

When Longbottom pulled back to end the kiss, Pansy leaned forward and pushed her tongue into his mouth. Longbottom gasped, but he couldn't have been as surprised as Draco was himself.

Pansy didn't put herself out there. People fought for her. Not the other way around.

Draco was still staring at Pansy in shock when the bottle spun again, and when their eyes met Pansy quickly looked away from him.

It landed on Potter and they laughed, kissed quickly and Potter was leaning over the bottle looking at Draco in the next moment. Draco's heartbeat speed up. Potter's luck might be good, but he couldn't possibly want to kiss Draco. Potter's gaze was either on the bottle or on Draco the entire time it sat spinning before them. Longbottom looked back and forth between him and Draco, with a glance at Pansy, and he didn't seem the slightest bit surprised when the bottle stopped on Draco.

Potter smirked at Draco, and he felt as though he'd finally been caught.

All year he'd turn a corner and Potter would be there. Draco had caught him on the train listening in to Draco's conversation, but Draco really hadn't said anything he cared about Potter knowing. Kissing Draco wouldn't inform Potter that he was fixing a cabinet to help Death Eaters get into Hogwarts. Potter wouldn't know about Draco's plans to kill the Headmaster, nor about the ones that had failed. If his constantly stalking hadn't given Potter the information he wanted, what did he expect to gain from a kiss?

There was no hesitation in Potter. He stood, crossed the circle, and kneeled down right in front of Draco. He even touched his face, brushing his thumb across Draco's cheek before he leaned in and pressed their lips together. Draco just sat there mouth agape when Potter pressed his tongue against his own. Until he realise that Potter had no intention of stopping unless Draco kissed him back.

So Draco did, if only to get the git to back off and let him breathe.

But when Potter did, he felt what he had been missing. His stomach dropped. The kiss was a mere distraction: Potter had Draco's left wrist in his hand, and he'd worked open the buttons on the sleeve. The sleeve was pushed up just enough for Potter's fingers to brush the bottom of the dark mark. Nothing happened from just a touch. One needed a spell for it to work, but it still felt dangerous. As though because he was Harry Potter he could send messages through it, too.

Potter lifted Draco's wrist to his mouth and kissed the tiny black spot that peeked out, which only the two of them were close enough to see. He knew. Draco hadn't really been trying to hide his mark from Potter; simply from everyone. Potter stood and walked back to his spot on the other side of the circle.

It was completely the wrong feeling, and yet there it was coursing through him: relief.

He was the last person that would offer Draco support, but just knowing someone else knew—

Draco spun the bottle and it landed on a Hufflepuff girl, and he quickly kissed her and the game moved on. They laughed, kissed, and played in their world where the war was outside the walls surrounding them as Draco and Potter sat in limbo amongst them where they fought the war inside the castle.

The castle seemed safer than it had ever to him before.

It wasn't a matter of time before the war entered its gates, as he had previously thought, but Hogwarts was holding strong against it. The full implication of breaking the walls down from the inside hit him—it wasn't his turn and he didn't care, but Draco was done with the game.

He stood, crossed the circle, and kissed Potter, again.


End file.
